New Moon Daughters Comic Is Up!

The new page of the Moon Daughter's Comic is up!

Shaded Vision Excerpt #3

We’re counting down to SHADED VISION’s February release with a snippet from Chapter 2!

You can read the first chapter of SHADED VISION in the back of COURTING DARKNESS, or up on Yasmine's site. So we'll be posting snippets from chapter 2 each Monday until the release date. If we find anybody reproducing this on other sites we'll stop and everybody loses out. That means: NO cutting/pasting/copying/sending through email.

Remember, you can pre-order SHADED VISION from Amazon.com or BN.com!

COURTING DARKNESS
CHAPTER TWO Excerpt #3
copyright 2011 Yasmine Galenorn, all rights reserved, do not reproduce
First Chapter
Excerpts Already Posted

I leaned into his embrace. Even without words, I could read his intent. He had my back, during the good times and the difficult. My heart swelled as the slightly exotic musk that marked him as part dragon swept around me, shoring me up, giving me strength.

Camille caught my eye and smiled. She understood. She knew what I was feeling because she had that reassurance, too. Having a dragon lover— even a half-dragon lover— brought with it a special sense of security. That security could be broken, but it took a lot to shatter the safety.

As if reading my mind, Trillian placed his hands on Camille’s shoulders. Ever since Hyto’s attack, my sister had pulled her men close to help strengthen her boundaries, and they’d been more than willing to help, in whatever way they could. Morio and she had started headlong back into their death magic rituals as soon as he was out of the wheelchair, Trillian had been teaching her how to fight street-dirty, and Smoky had been securing our land with his own crazed vigilance.

I looked up at Shade, intensely grateful for his support. “Thank you. Let’s go,” I said to the others. “We can’t do any more here tonight.” And with that, we turned and walked away— even though it was torture to think there might be more of my friends under the rubble— and headed for our cars.


So who am I? Taking a moment here to introduce myself, let me first say that some days I’m not exactly sure who I am. Oh, I know I’m Delilah D’Artigo, a two-faced Were, meaning one shape I shift into is a long-haired golden tabby who loves to get into trouble, and the other is my black panther self— ruled over by the Autumn Lord. There’s no memory problem . . . but I’ve been changing so rapidly over the past year, it’s hard to catch my breath, and sometimes I stare at myself in the mirror, wondering who’s looking back at me.

One of those changes includes the fact that I’ve also become a Death Maiden— the only living Death Maiden at this time. Most of the Autumn Lord’s servants are dead, their souls gathered in Haseofon to work for him, but I’m alive. And someday, he has promised I will bear his child via my lover Shade. How and when that’s to be, I have no clue, but it’s destined to happen, and I believe in Fate.

At first, the transformation into the Autumn Lord’s service was hard for me. When my sisters and I came Earthside a few years back, I was still fairly naïve. I believed in the goodness of people. Now— well, I’m still an optimist, but I lost my rose-colored glasses along the way. And I no longer automatically assume the best of everyone I meet. Now, I’m embracing my duties, and I feel honored to hold the title.

Along with my sisters— Camille, a wicked good witch, who is also a priestess of the Moon Mother, and Menolly— a jian-tu acrobat and spy-turned-vampire, we were sent over from Otherworld. We were members of the OIA— the Otherworld Intelligence Agency— and after the portals dividing the worlds opened, we were assigned Earthside.

At first, the people here opened up their arms to their magical brethren. At one time the two worlds were united and the reunion caught the heart of most of Earthside. But now hate crimes were on the rise as interaction between the Supes— supernaturals— and the FBHs increased and the novelty wore off.

Our mother was human— she’s long dead— and our father is Fae. Near the end of World War Two, when Sephreh was over Earthside on some secret mission, they met and fell in love. In the true nature of whirlwind romances, he swept her off her feet and took her back to Otherworld. Losing Mother was hard on our family. Losing our father’s support was even harder. But he turned his back on Camille, and in doing so, we turned our backs on him.

We resigned from the OIA and told our father that we’d return to duty when he came around to accepting Camille’s pledge to the Earthside Fae Queen’s court. Now we’re on our own, still facing the demon lord Shadow Wing, who intends to raze Earth and Otherworld for his own private amusement.

He’s after the spirit seals, and so are we. Originally one seal, the artifact was formed after the Great Divide, the time when the great Fae Lords ripped apart the worlds. They created the seal to keep Otherworld, Earthside, and the Subterranean Realms separate, then broke it into nine pieces, scattering them to the Elemental Lords to keep them hidden. Separate, the nine seals have kept the realms safe. If brought back together, they can rip open all the portals.

But sometimes things work as they will and not as we wish. The seals began to surface. They came to the attentionof Shadow Wing. And that’s where we come in. We were plunged into a race to find them as they made themselves known— hopefully before the Demon Lord gets hold of them. He managed to steal one of them from us before we could secure it. We’ve found five. So far the odds are in our favor, but the fact that he possesses even one of them puts everyone in danger.

Technically, we now work for Queen Asteria, the Elfin Queen back in Otherworld, who’s hiding the spirit seals as we take them to her. But in reality we work on our own, trying to ensure that the future makes it here in one piece without too much damage or demonic interference. Some days are easier than others . . .


“What are you thinking about?” Shade glanced over at me as I leaned back in the passenger seat, wincing. I had the beginnings of a headache and wondered how long before the side effects of the damishanya were going to hit.

“I’m wondering who I know among the dead. Which families I’m going to have to shatter with the news.” I rubbed my temples, glancing into the backseat at Chase and Sharah. “You guys have it worse . . . I know. I’m not complaining. It’s just never . . .”

“Never easy,” Chase said, finishing my thought. “Trust me, I understand and if I didn’t think you’d be a helpful influence, I’d never ask you to join me for this. I wish we’d brought Nerissa, too. This is part of her job. She’s a wonderful grief counselor.”

I pulled out my cell phone. “Let me give her a call and see how she’s doing.” The phone rang three times before Iris picked up. I ran down what we’d learned and where we were going. “Is Nerissa in any shape to drag herself out of the house and down to HQ?”

“Hold on.” Iris set the phone down, and as I waited, I thought about how entangled we’d all become in each others’ lives. After a moment, Iris returned. “She’s sober. I’ll have Bruce’s driver take her down to headquarters in the limo. If you could see that she gets home when necessary . . .”

“No problem. Bless you and bless Bruce. Tell her we’ll see her when she gets there.” I punched the End Call button. “Nerissa’s coming down.”

Chase grunted a thank-you. “Odd . . . how this has all worked out.” He didn’t say anything more, but I knew he’d picked up on my mood— I’d been around him long enough to tell.

We’d been involved, after he struck out with Camille, and we’d made a good stab at a relationship, but the rocks on that ocean were just too sharp to navigate. Now he was involved with Sharah, the elfin medic, and they seemed to be a more compatible couple. He’d hired Nerissa as a crisis counselor, and she and Menolly were promised to each other. One by one, our extended family kept growing involved in ways we’d never have been able to predict. It kind of made up for the isolation we’d first felt when we came over Earthside.


By the time we arrived at the FH-CSI headquarters, Morio was fully sober. Apparently alcohol sped through his system quickly. Camille looked vaguely ill, as did Shamas, and I was starting to feel as rough as they looked. But we were all clearheaded as we followed Chase and Sharah into the building.

The Faerie-Human Crime Scene Investigation building took up at least four floors, though there was a rumor of a hidden level. The top floor housed the police headquarters and medical unit. First floor down was a highly secure arsenal. Second floor down— the OW offender jails. And on the bottom floor were the laboratory, morgue, and archives. Tonight, we were headed for the morgue— a place we had been all too often.

Nene Thomas--I Heart Her Work

I just realized that all my faerie figurines that I collect are the work of Nene Thomas. Which must mean that I really love her work since that's what I've focused on. Here are two of my favorites (though I love the Crimson Bubble Faerie, the other two are my faves so far). Queen of Owls on the left, and Queen of Shadows on the right. I use them as inspiration.

What do you love to collect? Did you ever find yourself gravitating toward a certain artist or pattern of china or something without realizing it?

Yasmine

Fire and Ice

Blogging Over At Between Fire and Ice today.

My Responsibilities as a Writer

This past weekend, on Facebook, I did a little venting. I usually ignore complaints on my books. Not every writer can please every reader—it’s a fact and that’s just the way it is. If I let the opinion of every person who doesn’t like my work bother me, I wouldn’t be able to write a word. I don’t read most reviews for that reason. If people love the books, I’m thrilled. If people don’t love the books, there’s nothing I can do to change matters, because I cannot and will not change my writing style based on what others want.

However, when someone tries to guilt me about the content of my work, 'just think if teens picked up your books'...I get pissed. And that happened this past week, and quite frankly, after being snowbound for six days, I didn’t have my usual patience when I received an email doing just that.

Yes, I write dark stories, and at times they will be uncomfortable. Sometimes what I write can verge on horror. It's what I do—it’s what I write.

I'd be cheating myself and my readers if I glossed over some of the uncomfortable elements I touch on. If I’d let Hyto capture Camille and she had emerged unscathed, I’d have been lying to the reader about his character. It would have rang false because yes, Hyto is a psychotic freak and to gloss over his nature would have been cheating as a writer.

Now, to the core of this post:

• It is not my responsibility to concern myself with who reads my books.
• It is not my responsibility to write books for all age groups.
• It is not my responsibility to decide whether your teenagers should read these books or not—I know I have a number of teenager readers. Whether they are allowed to read my books is between them and their parents.

  

• It is my responsibility to write books I enjoy writing, to write them true to my vision, and to not be influenced by others.
• It is my responsibility to write the best books I can at the time I am writing them.
• It is my responsibility to be true to the characters and storyline, and advance/evolve them even when it takes them into uncomfortable, dangerous, and frightening territory.
• It is my responsibility to meet my deadlines, to promote to the best I can without interfering with my writing or my personal life.

So, there’s nothing to say when people write to me complaining about the nature of what I write except, too fucking bad. There are many authors out there who write other genres, other worlds, other stories that aren’t like mine. I highly suggest reading widely to find out which authors you are comfortable with, and which authors you aren’t--there are books I love and books I don't, authors I love to read and authors I don't care for. But I don't write to them to complain because they are writing what they need to write. I just may not want to read it. And I refuse to censor my work to make some people comfortable.

Yasmine

New Moon Daughters Comic Is Up!

The new page of the Moon Daughter's Comic is up!

Shaded Vision Excerpt #2

We’re counting down to SHADED VISION’s February release with a snippet from Chapter 2!

You can read the first chapter of SHADED VISION in the back of COURTING DARKNESS, or up on Yasmine's site. So we'll be posting snippets from chapter 2 each Monday until the release date. If we find anybody reproducing this on other sites we'll stop and everybody loses out. That means: NO cutting/pasting/copying/sending through email.

Remember, you can pre-order SHADED VISION from Amazon.com or BN.com!

SHADED VISION
CHAPTER TWO Excerpt #2
copyright 2011 Yasmine Galenorn, all rights reserved, do not reproduce
First Chapter
Excerpts Already Posted

“It’s bad.” Yugi saw us and hurried over. Second in command to Chase, the Swedish hulk of a detective had grown into a friend— he’d always been helpful to us. He was an FBH, but he was also an empath, and now he looked into my eyes and I saw him shiver. He turned to Chase, who stepped up.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here—” Chase started to say, remorse filling his voice.

“You can’t be on duty twenty-four-seven, boss. Nobody knew this was going to happen. We didn’t have any warning. Sure, hate crimes have been up, but nobody expected anything like this.” Yugi handed him a file. “Here are the details we have so far.”

“Run it down for us, please.” Chase fl ipped through the file, but it was too dark to read, even under the streetlamp.

Yugi nodded. “Sure thing. We got a call at ten forty-five p. m. that there had been an explosion, but we weren’t sure how big or bad. Fire trucks were on the way. Team assembled and headed out. We got here to find the building engulfed by flames, and the firemen weren’t able to put a dent in the fire. I noticed an odd smell, and I still can’t place it— it might be gone, but I can’t say for sure. By now my nose is filled with the smell of smoke.”

Camille and I stepped forward and began to sniff around. Shamas did the same. After a moment Shamas let out a shout, and we looked at him.

He turned to Chase. “Explosive all right, but not from Earthside. This is canya, a volatile magical mixture. Liquid— but it’s usually mixed in small amounts into a bigger bomb. While it’s sold in the back alleys of Otherworld, it’s illegal in most of the cities there.”

“Canya? Are you sure?”

“Trust me. I know that scent.”

Camille let out a long sigh. “The one place in Otherworld you could find it in any great measure would be the Southern Wastes.” She frowned. “And the Southern Wastes are controlled by sorcerers, goblins, and the Goldunsan Fae— who work their way into some of the northern mountains. The Goldunsan aren’t like us. They’re alien, a little like the seers of Aladril.”

“That’s the second time the mention of sorcerers has come up tonight. You think Van or Jaycee had something to do with this?” I stared at her.

Two sorcerers had escaped our net a few months back after seriously putting the bite on a bunch of local werewolves, and they’d done some heavy damage to Camille in the process. We’d done our best to capture them, but they managed to vanish. We couldn’t win them all, and we’d taken down their illegal drug operation and saved several werewolves from a horrible death. So, we’d counted ourselves lucky.

Sucking in a deep breath, she caught my gaze. “I don’t want to go there. I really don’t, but we’d better put that down as a possibility. Revenge, perhaps, for shutting down their Wolf Briar business?”

Wolf Briar was a skanky drug used to subdue werewolves. And the production of it required the torture and dissection of werewolves. We’d put a stop to an underground production line, but the main players had managed to escape and were still out there.

“Good possibility. They’re Tregarts, so they’d have access to the explosive.” I rubbed my head. Tregarts— humanoid demons who could pass easily in society— were becoming a constant issue. We weren’t sure how they were getting in from the Subterranean Realms, but since Shadow Wing had one of the spirit seals, chances were he’d figured out a way to make it work for him.

“There’s one other possibility that we can’t overlook: Telazhar.” She pressed her lips together.

We’d gotten word that Telazhar, the necromancer who’d trained Stacia Bonecrusher— a rogue demon general whom we’d barely managed to put an end to— had escaped from the Sub-Realms. He’d been deported there when he was kicked out of Otherworld. We had reason to believe he might be Earthside now.

“What if somehow he hooked up with Van and Jaycee?” I didn’t even want to entertain the thought, but we had to.

Camille shook her head. “If he does, we’re fucked. Sorcerers and necromancers together? They’d be such powerful allies, they’d rival a demon general. But since Van and Jaycee were connected to Stacia, that’s not a wild- card bet. We’d better check it out.”

Chase cleared his throat. “Keep it in mind, but let’s not start on that assumption. One thing I’ve learned: Never assume. Go by the facts, and conjecture all you like, but remember it’s just speculation until proven.” He let out a long sigh. “You say four died?”

Yugi’s jaw tightened. “Five. We found another body after I called you. Two are on the cusp— Mallen’s taking care of them back at headquarters. Sharah, you need to get over there. Mallen needs your help.”

As he moved to call an officer to drive her, I stopped him. “Can we go poke around the building?”

Yugi shook his head. “Not till morning. Still too dangerous to go in. The rest of the roof could easily cave, and then where would you be? The flames aren’t even doused yet. And we have to go through it with a fine-tooth comb for evidence, and also to look for . . .”

“For more bodies.” I clenched my teeth. I had too many friends from the Supe Community. Chances were, I knew at least one of the victims. “We’ll take Sharah to HQ. I need to see the victims, to see if any of them are . . .” I couldn’t finish the sentence. Instead, I asked, “Has anybody called yet wondering if the victims are okay? I imagine word about the explosion has made the news already.”

He nodded. “Yeah, a bunch of family members are waiting at the station. I was hoping you’d volunteer to come help. The news might come better from . . .” Pausing, Yugi ducked his head.

“From one of their own?” My voice was soft; I knew what he meant and there was no disrespect there. As I spoke, I felt an arm snake around my waist and Shade pressed against me, his lips brushing against the side of my head.

Fire and Ice

Blogging Over At Between Fire and Ice today.

Making Choices

Every day, we are faced with choices. Some of them really don’t matter—do I wear a red sweater or a crimson sweater? Do I want turkey or chicken? Should I watch a re-run of Friends or Spongebob Squarepants? But other choices, they do matter, and part of being an adult, in my opinion, is how you make those choices.


Some days, yes, you have to throw caution to the wind and go play. But I’m finding more and more, for myself, that my choices are more considered now. I am on low-carb. I could easily go over the 50 carb limit, and sometimes I do, but I try to keep those days very limited—mainly on special days.

Yesterday (well, today but before midnight), was my birthday. I had planned to go out to dinner with friends and yes, I was going to indulge—knowingly, accepting that it was a special day and I felt I deserved to let go a little. However, with the weather so freaky here, we had to postpone our plans. Which meant that no, we didn’t go out.


So, did I still eat whatever I wanted? Nobody would have known—except me and my body. And there was the answer. My body would have known that I chose to go over the carb limit, and since I’m still planning to go out with friends once the storms are gone and I still plan to eat whatever I want, it would have been cheating my health. And I am no longer willing to gamble my health by poor eating habits.

So I chose to have celery and some peanut butter. How many carbs? I ended up at 53. Three carbs over and that, well, that’s not too shabby. I consider today a good day. And I’m not hungry, and the celery and peanut butter—tasty. Oh, yeah, I would have preferred chocolate, but I wouldn’t have felt good about my choices.

I make choices every day—about work, about how I spend my time, about my ethical decisions. I choose to be the person I am—every choice I make defines me. Granted, some choices prove that there’s a part of me who’s still seven years old and a little devil, but overall, when an important decision comes up, or when I’m faced with want versus duty, I try to pick the choice that will make me proud of myself. That will make me look back and say, “I did what was right.”

So choices…whether it be celery or chocolate…the important thing is to think about your choice, and to take the responsibility for the paths you choose to take in life.


Yasmine

New Moon Daughters Comic Is Up!

The new page of the Moon Daughter's Comic is up!

Shaded Vision Excerpt #1

We’re counting down to SHADED VISION’s February release with a snippet from Chapter 2!

You can read the first chapter of SHADED VISION in the back of COURTING DARKNESS, or up on Yasmine's site. So we'll be posting snippets from chapter 2 each Monday until the release date. If we find anybody reproducing this on other sites we'll stop and everybody loses out. That means: NO cutting/pasting/copying/sending through email.

Remember, you can pre-order SHADED VISION from Amazon.com or BN.com!

SHADED VISION
CHAPTER TWO Excerpt #1
copyright 2011 Yasmine Galenorn, all rights reserved, do not reproduce
First Chapter
Excerpts Already Posted

The room fell silent. I took a deep breath and barked out orders. “Smoky, Shade— you guys are sober, but I’ll be damned if Smoky’s touching a car.”

“I can drive,” he protested, but I shook my head.

“Right, and I can blow smoke and fire out of my mouth. Nice try.” I tossed my keys to Shade. “You drive my Jeep and take Vanzir, Roz, and me. Menolly, you’re sober. You can drive Camille’s car and take her and her men.”

Iris piped up. “Bruce’s driver can take Chase and Sharah. But somebody has to stay here. Someone not drunk out of their minds.”

“Right . . . okay. Smoky, you stay with Iris and the others. You can handle trouble if there is any.”

“Check.” He blinked, the smile wiping off of his face. Ever since his father had captured Camille, the dragon had taken security around the place to a whole new level. We practically lived in a compound now.

“Crap, is there any way we can get some of this booze out of our systems?” I didn’t want to go in drunk. And I had the feeling that— from now on— we wouldn’t be partying with booze. At least not all of us at the same time.

Iris blinked. “I can help— I’ve got an herb that works wonders, but the effects won’t be pleasant in the morning.”

“We have no choice. Can we all use it?” I didn’t care if we all had the dry heaves in the morning. Tonight, we needed to be on our game.

“Not everybody. But you, Camille, Shamas, Trillian, Sharah . . . it might also help Rozurial since he was Fae before he was turned into an incubus. I’d be hesitant to try it on Morio or Vanzir, though. I’m not sure about Nerissa.”

“Then bring it on. Shade’s fine. Nerissa’s staying here, so go ahead and try to sober her up after we’re gone. That just leaves Vanzir and Chase.”

“I don’t need it.” Trillian held out his hand. It was steady. “I had two brandies a few hours ago. I’m sober.”

Iris nodded. “Fine. While I might consider giving it to Chase . . . hell . . . just a minute!” She turned and raced for the bathroom.

Meanwhile, Smoky picked up Camille, tossed her over his shoulder, and headed up the stairs. “I’ll get her dressed for action,” he called over his shoulder. Trillian and Morio followed.

I pulled off my boots and asked Shade to bring me down a pair of mud stompers and a heavy denim jacket. The rest of my outfit would be fine. He nodded and dashed up the stairs.

Meanwhile, Iris reappeared and motioned for Menolly to help her. I followed them into the kitchen, where Iris pulled out a packet of a foul- smelling herbs, but instead of steeping them into tea, like I thought she was going to, she began packing them into gelatin capsules. Then she whispered some sort of enchantment over the capsules and handed me one of the giant horse pills along with a bottle of water.

I stared at it, finally slipping it into my mouth. I struggled to swallow it with a big swig of water. It began to open on the way down and I burped, an earthy, tangy taste filling my mouth. As I winced, Iris slapped a piece of bread spread with butter in my hands.

“Eat. It will help cushion the impact of the damishanya root.”

“Damishanya? Oh crap. We’re fucked. But yeah, it will help.”

Damishanya was an Otherworld herb that was as harsh as it was effective. I’d forgotten about it until Iris mentioned the name, but now memories of the root flooded back. The first time Camille, Menolly, and I had gotten pie-faced drunk— before our father gave us permission to drink— we’d sneaked some of the herb to keep our father from finding out. But he could smell the booze and herb a mile away, and we’d all suffered his wrath. We’d all been on cleaning duty for a week straight. He’d blamed Camille most, since she was the oldest and he held her responsible. She’d been on house arrest for two weeks.

As Camille and the others entered the kitchen, Iris doled out the capsules and food, and then we headed out for the cars. Roz had declined the drug; come to find out he was barely tipsy and just blowing off steam. He did, however, wash off the oil and dress. Vanzir stayed home— he was too wasted to be of any help in the field.

So Shade and I took Chase and Sharah with us in the Jeep, while Menolly drove Camille’s Lexus, ferrying Camille, Morio, Trillian, and Shamas.

As we headed down the driveway my thoughts began to clear. The root was working fast. With a poignant regret, I realized how much I’d welcomed shutting down my mind for a while. For just a moment we’d been able to let ourselves go wild, forget about all we’d been facing. But now, I realized just how much steam was left behind the barrier.


As we pulled into the parking lot at the Supe Community Council, I realized I was stone-cold sober. The hall— a small building that sat on a weed-infested lot with a parking lot full of cracks in the pavement— was smoldering. The smell of smoke saturated the air and it was hard to breathe. I opened the door and slowly stepped out of the car.

At first glance, I thought maybe we’d lucked out and the building hadn’t been hit too hard. But as the others joined us— with everybody but Morio looking relatively intact— we moved forward, and I realized that the place had been gutted by the fire and explosion.

I stared at the fractured hall, my heart skipping a beat. I was an integral part of the Supe Community Council. I could have easily been here. The planning committee for an upcoming dance was supposed to have met tonight. And what if this had happened during one of our monthly meetings, when we’d have up to a hundred members joining us?

The thoughts of what might have been began to run through my head, an unending stream of bloody images, un-til I realized a lump the size of a golf ball had formed in the back of my throat. Camille took my hand as we surveyed the damage. The firemen were still pouring water on parts of the building, but by now, most of the flames had burned themselves out. There wasn’t much left for them to feed on.

Fire and Ice

Blogging Over At Between Fire and Ice today.

Etched In Silver, Camille, & Birthdays

So, tomorrow is the release of Etched in Silver—the stand alone e-novella that first came out in the Inked anthology. Etched in Silver tells the story of when Camille and Trillian first met, long before the girls ever came over to Earthside, and explains their relationship and how it started out.We’re releasing it as an e-special so that the people who don’t normally buy anthologies would have the chance to buy it, and there are a couple of extras in it—the first two chapters of Shaded Vision, plus a little something I wrote a few years back. A very few of you may have seen it, in its first incarnation,but for the most part, most of you haven’t.

I love writing about Camille and her men. Weaving one woman’s life into three men’s lives—especially supernatural men—is a complex task, and I fully enjoy watching how the relationship meshes and changes as time goes on. I must admit, it pisses me off when people call Camille a whore—in my world, polyamory is absolutely acceptable and the morals of most humans don’t apply to the Fae.To me, a ‘whore’ is someone who doesn’t care who s/he sleeps with, who has sex for money, and who approaches the act, not with love, but with a business sense. And quite frankly, if that’s what someone chooses to do, then I have no qualms with them, either. But Camille—Camille loves her men, she loves sex, is highly sexual, and she’s happy being Smoky, Trillian, and Morio’s wife. For her, the ‘one-and-only’ concept doesn’t fit—and neither does the picket fence,minivan, and 2.5 kids average. While I have one husband, and pretty much plan on it staying that way, I understand Camille on a gut level. She and I are a lot alike, and I love being able to let her turn her sensuality loose with the men she trusts.

Next month, Shaded Vision releases—I’m so hoping to see sales go over the top, especially the first week. And I admit, I’d love to see a climb back onto the NYT print list (meaning the top 1-20 books). It’s harder to get there now, with the split in e-sales and print sales, but I can hope. ~laughs~ After Courting Darkness, you can expect a little more humor in this book—it is a Delilah book, after all, but the stakes are getting higher for the sisters and the storyline is going to remain tense.However, you’ll also get to see Iris’s wedding—which I had a blast writing—and this month and next month in the Moon Daughters Web Comic, Jayelle and I are exploring the wedding in ways I couldn’t fit into the book. So be sure to follow the comic, too.

So, back to work. I’m writing Shadow Rising, right now and am on a tight deadline. After this I write book 14—Haunted Moon, Camille’s fifth book.AMAZING that I’m going to be starting book 13 in the series in about six weeks!I am so grateful to all of you readers who keep me in business…thank you for buying the books and taking the sisters—and Cicely from the Indigo Court Series—into your hearts.

Next Tuesday is my birthday. I’ll be celebrating with good friends and good food (albeit, mostly low-carb), and I’m seeing this birthday in happier,healthier, and lighter than I have in a long, long time.

So Bright Blessings. And by next week, I’ll be adding one more year on the ‘age bracket’ scale, but ya know, that’s okay!

Yasmine

New Moon Daughters Comic Is Up!

The new page of the Moon Daughter's Comic is up!

New Year, New Outlook

Blogging Over At Between Fire and Ice today about New Year, New Outlook.

New Moon Daughters Comic Is Up!

The new page of the Moon Daughter's Comic is up!

Over on Happy Twilighter's Blog

Talking about music and my work over on HT's blog.

Happy New Year--Many Thoughts

Well, I wasn’t going to, but I’ve decided to write a New Year’s Blog after all, for several reasons. Now that I’m not on Twitter or Facebook very much, I actually have the energy to blog as well as to do my work. Second, it feels like a good beginning to the year to say hello and to wish you a wonderful New Year.

The Solstice

 We had a lovely solstice—our Circle had a wonderful ritual and dinner, and for the first time in years, I really felt connected to the holiday again in a way more than just putting up the decorations. It’s been many years since I’ve worked in Circle with others, but things have meshed in a lovely way for several friends and I to come together. And now that that I’m part of a Circle again, I find I really forward to spending more time away from the clamor of the net, and more time in private meditation.  While I received some lovely and heartfelt gifts for Yule, I think the best was the gift of celebrating it with good friends.

Toys

 I bought an iPhone and have fallen in love with it. Well, as much as I can fall for a gadget. By the same token, I bought a Kindle Fire and am rather regretting it. It’s not quite what I hoped it would be and I still hate reading on screen.

Etched in Silver

On January 12^th, the standalone e-novella of Etched in Silver is releasing. I hope that those of you who haven’t read the story yet (first out in the anthology Inked) enjoy it, and I also hope you enjoy the little extra that I added in for fun. My editor loved it, and I hope you will too. And in addition, you’ll also find the first two chapters of Shaded Vision included.

My Birthday

And my birthday’s on January 17^th so I’m facing another sort of ‘new year’ in a few weeks. I’m ringing in my birthday about 55 pounds lighter than I was last year at this time, and a whole lot healthier. The low carb is working for me so well, and I feel so much better. And the exercise—well—that only helps too.

Schedule This Year

This year I’ll be making three big trips—to Chicago for the Romantic Times Convention, to Anaheim for the RWA Nationals, and to New Orleans for the Authors After Dark convention. My schedule is set—except for a couple local signings, that’s all the traveling I’m doing. In addition, I’m writing three books again. I have my workouts, my coven I’m working with, and a life to lead. So I’m officially a mega-busy woman for 2012. ~grins~

Social Networking Back-Away

Now, to address an issue: I’ve received more than a few disappointed notes on Twitter about the fact that I’m not there. While I appreciate that you enjoy my tweeting, the fact is that yes, while I still have my account, I have backed off dramatically and am seldom there now and that’s not going to change.

I let Twitter suck away my time and energy. While I met some lovely people on Twitter—some whom I have developed friendships with—I also found myself not getting work done, and I was easily irritated by negative things I saw posted.  So, I decided to back away.

Now understand, I’m not saying Twitter is bad. But I was addicted. And that’s not a good thing. So from now on, I’ll be an occasional drop-by on there, to put out an announcement or to say hello, but I will never be there again with any regularity again.

My moderators—Jenn and Phil—will make sure my Facebook is updated regularly. And while I know some of my readers will miss me on both sites, I’m also sure the majority would rather I focus on writing books more than on entertaining people on Twitter/FB!

So, 99% of my online interaction is going to be limited to the blogs, and to my forums.

Yes, the forums are back—all user info intact—but this time, we’ve created a full fan site—the Moon Stalkers Site. ALL the perks—the avatars and icons and promo banners and book videos and all of that fun stuff—is located in the same area.

And we’re working on an Otherworld Wikipedia for my readers. The OW Wiki won’t be accessible to change by anybody other than our team, so it’s not a user-interactive encyclopedia. We’re also working on some form of puzzles/crosswords for you to enjoy—we’re hoping to have that all up by February but we can’t make an absolute promise.

The only part you have to register to use is the forums and chat room—the rest will be accessible to everybody.

So, I guess that’s it for my New Year’s Blog. I hope that 2012 is a wonderful year for you all (no, I do not believe it’s going to be the ‘end of the world’—too many cultures have had too many EOTW scares over thousands of years and frankly, I think it’s hype). I wish you prosperity, joy, and health this year.

Yasmine